


Sleepwalker

by BravoWriters



Category: Bravo Team (RvB OC)
Genre: F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sleepwalking, every fic, finding out that Mitch and Miss are banging like, poor west, sorry West, that will never end, why can't we just retire already?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28385001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BravoWriters/pseuds/BravoWriters
Summary: A decades-old secret becomes a new problem.
Relationships: Agent Michigan/Agent Mississippi
Kudos: 4





	Sleepwalker

Agent Mississippi opened his eyes.

His quarters were dark, illuminated only by a small soft light that was perpetually on in the bathroom. Despite how many times he had debated covering that light, and all the nights it kept him awake, he blessed it now. Aside from the occupants of his bed, the room was empty, and the sound of footsteps following him was all in his head. The footsteps that carried over the sound of the gunfire and mortar blasts, never running, an invisible hunter stalking him through the fog…

Miss felt his chest tighten, and forced himself to let go of the image that tried to once again sink its claws into his mind. Focus on the light. 

There’s a small sound, whisper light next to him, and Agent Michigan’s head twitches in her sleep. Grateful that for once he woke up on his back, Miss eases himself off the bed with his eyes locked on her, gritting his teeth in effort as he tries not to jostle the mattress and wake her. Feet on the ground, he gives Mitch one last look, taking in the curve of her bare shoulders, the way the sheet fails to hide the dip of her waist. He wants to stay, wants to take her in, let her be the balm that heals his soul, but that means waking her, and he can’t bring himself to do that. Instead he turns away, enters the bathroom and closes the door. Miss turns the faucet, trying to keep the flow to a trickle so as not to waken Mitch, but with enough sound to try and overwhelm the lingering memory of the footsteps in his nightmare. 

Miss puts his forearms on the edge of the small metal sink, resting his face in his hands. The water is only inches from his face, but it’s still not enough. He turns it up a tiny bit more, takes a deep breath, and tries to make it the only thing he hears, from the inside or outside.

Alone in bed, Mitch opens her eyes.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Agent Massachusetts knuckles her lower back, and groans as a completely different part of her body answers with a sharp pop. “You weren’t supposed to do that,” she growls, twisting to the side in an attempt to ease too-tight muscles. 

“I’m not supposed to do what?” Agent West Virginia walks alongside, looking entirely too loose and relaxed. To M’s eyes, her movements are disgustingly fluid, her long legs making her gait seem even smoother, even elegant when compared to M’s constant bustle necessary to keep up.

M grunts in response. “Not you, my damn… what was that? My hip? My shoulder? Whatever piece of me made that goddamn popping noise. Is this what it feels like to get old, Westie?” 

West glances at her friend with narrowed eyes. “Why are you asking me that? I’m not that much older than you M. If you really want to know maybe you should try asking--”

“I’m not asking Mitch,” M interrupts hurriedly, looking back behind them, down the hall. “I might be thick, but I’ve got that much sense of self-preservation, at least.” 

West chuckles, and not for the first time, M marvels that a laugh can have an accent. “Afraid she’s gonna catch you, M? You think that just because we’re talking about her, that she’s hovering nearby, waiting to pounce?” West’s eyes sparkle, clearly pleased to have the opportunity to tease two friends at once, even if one is in absentia. “Relax. It’s 2200. She’s probably been asleep for hours, like most old people.” She steps in front of M as they come up to where their hallway intersects with another, putting her hand out to stop her teammate. “Here, you wait right there, I’ll scout out ahead so you know she’s not waiting for you around the corner.” 

M swats West’s hand away, eyes rolling. “You better hope she’s not there, if you’re going to be so loud about it.” 

“Oh please. She’d have to be wearing her hearing aid to hear me anyway.” West steps away, rounds the corner. “It’s not like she-- oh my god. Mitch…”

M snorts, pushes past West. “I’m not falling for that. You’re going to have to try a lot harder to… oh my god.”

Around the corner, thirty feet down the hall, stands Mitch. Well, not stand exactly. She’s leaning against the wall, and from here it seems obvious that she’s putting most of her weight against it, to the point of being in danger of falling over. Even from this distance, M can see her laboured breathing, shallow frantic panting. But what is absolutely unmissable, is that she is completely naked. 

“Mitch…  _ Jèzus _ ...” West also looks as though she could fall over any second, but for an entirely different reason. M sees Mitch raise her head at the sound of her name, but it takes her a moment to realize that her eyes aren’t moving, aren’t fixed on them, simply staring into nothing. 

She reaches out to grab hold of her friend’s sleeve. “West. I think she’s asleep. Look at her. Look at her eyes.”

West leans forward, wanting to get a better look, but without getting close. “Are you sure? Is that really a thing? Sleepwalking? I’ve never known anyone to really do it. I thought it was just something that you would only find in cartoons.” She tears her eyes away from Mitch, face pale as she turns to M. “Is it safe to wake her? It won’t scare her, will it? Or hurt her? We can’t just leave her here.”

“I don’t think it will hurt her. But yeah, we might need to be careful not to scare her. Who knows what she might be seeing right now, if she’s dreaming.” M flicks through memories of her childhood, of her short time as barely-an-adult before she joined the UNSC. Had she once heard that if you woke a sleepwalking person, that the shock of it could kill them? That was an urban myth, surely?

“I’ll try. We need to get her covered up and back to her room before more people come along and find her. Mitch--” West covers her eyes with her hand, then turns again to her distressed friend. “Mitch, let’s get you back to bed,  _ èdesanya _ . Let’s get you warm, take you home. Come with me.” 

Mitch’s entire body goes rigid when she hears West’s voice. Her head comes up, as though looking for the source of the sound, but her eyes don’t lose their glassy look, and even staring almost straight at them, gives no sign that she sees her squadmates, let alone recognizes them. However as soon as West takes a step forward, her head swings straight to her as though magnetized. Her expression doesn’t change as West takes another couple steps closer, but when West is nearly halfway, Mitch jerks backwards away from her, mouth open, pressing against the wall all the more, as though looking for a place to hide. From here, West can see Mitch shaking, but she can’t tell if it’s from fear, or just the fact that she’s naked and the corridors of a spaceship are naturally freezing. She can hear the sound Mitch is making, a quiet keening, deep in her throat. West’s heart drops, and she holds out her hands to Mitch as she draws closer. 

“It’s okay,  _ anya _ . It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe. I’ll take you home.”

Mitch freezes and West slows, approaches cautiously not wanting to frighten her into retreating again, not wanting to risk Mitch tripping, or running into a wall. So it is a complete surprise when she does move, but not away. West gasps as Mitch surges forward toward her. Mitch grabs her arm and twists it behind her, painful enough that West's gasp turns into a yelp before Mitch’s arm snakes around her neck and squeezes. 

“Shit!” M hurries forward, but Mitch’s head snaps towards the movement again, teeth bared in silent fury. She turns, keeping West’s body between her and this new threat. 

“Mitch, don’t you know us?” M watches the way that Mitch’s eyes drift away from her if she holds still. Even the sound of her voice isn’t enough to pin her leader’s focus back on her location. “It’s me, M. That’s West you’re holding.” West frantically nods her head in agreement, trying to work her free hand between Mitch’s arm and her throat. “You know we aren’t going to hurt you.” West tries to pull away again and gets a second silent snarl. “West, no! Just...just hold still a second okay? Don’t move, don’t make a sound.”

West is nearly on her tiptoes, trying to alleviate the pressure on her neck, but does her best to listen. As she stops struggling, Mitch’s grip relaxes slightly. It’s not much, but enough for West to draw a whistling breath.

“That’s it -” M lowers her voice, trying to keep calm as she tries desperately to find any way to free one of her friends from the other. “I think- I think if you hold still, she can’t see you. If you hold still long enough, she might even forget you’re there. Just try it.” West rolls her eyes but does as she’s told. 

It only takes about ten seconds before changes begin to occur. Mitch’s arm relaxes and West carefully tries to suck in as much air as possible without tensing up. Her grip feels less like a restraint, and more like a hug from someone who doesn’t know their own strength. Able to breathe comfortably again, West feels Mitch’s hand leave her arm from where she had it pinned behind West’s back. She stays still, however, feeling the way that Mitch loses sight of her perceived danger, and not wanting to bring it back too soon. She wants to call out to M, wants to be making a plan, but by an unspoken mutual agreement they instead wait for Mitch to make the first move. 

She does, finally, and lets go of West completely. Mitch leans her back against the wall, eyes unfocused again. 

“ _ Szent szar... _ do you think I should move?” West asks M, through gritted teeth. She tries to stay quiet, to stay as still as possible, but with her back to Mitch, she has no way of judging the situation, not without possibly forcing a second reaction from Mitch. 

“I dunno.” M’s eyes never leave Mitch’s face. “Maybe if we just stay still long enough, she’ll just go back to sleep. She looks exhausted.” 

“Well, she’s not lost her strength.” Trying to hold this position is making West’s back start to ache, but she pushes the pain aside. “What is she doing now?”

“She’s just leaning there. She’s looking at you. Well, not sure if she actually sees you or not, but her eyes are at least pointed in your direction. Who knows what she is or isn’t seeing at this point.” M goes quiet as Mitch raises her head, looking from side to side as though trying to pinpoint a sound. M drops her voice, but continues on. “We might be talking too much, or too loud. She’s looking around.” 

“I think I’m just going to make a break for it. As long as I can get out of her reach, it should be fine, right? I don’t think she can actually chase me.” Without waiting for an answer, West takes two miniscule steps away from Mitch. Unfortunately, she can’t see the way that Mitch’s head picks up. 

“West, no, don’t, she can see -- “ 

It’s too late, West makes a dash for it, but Mitch is already stepping behind her. West sprints back to M, just in time to hear her friend groan. “Oh thank god. I thought that might get bad.” M groans again, eyes fixed behind West. “What? Oh.”

As West attempted to flee, Mitch had plucked her pistol (or at least something that looked like a pistol) from her holster. Now she is standing in the hallway, gun raised, with West and M in her sights. 

“Please tell me that it isn’t one of your modified guns.” M breathes the words, trying to keep her lips as still as possible.

“It’s not one of my modified guns.” 

“Is that true, or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

“Completely not true. I was dicking around with that one just today. I was carrying it because I wanted to take it back to my quarters and keep dicking around with it. It absolutely has been modified and she could probably blow a hole clean through both of us with that.”

M swallows hard. “Wow, thanks for the info.” 

“Don’t worry. In the state she’s in, I doubt she could ever figure out how to take off the safety. We’re going to be just fine.”

In the silence that followed that statement, there is a quiet, but unignorable sound - a metallic click and the colour drains from West’s face. “Ah.  _ Jol fasz. _ ” 

M doesn’t even dare to move her eyes, let alone any other part of her. “Was that--?”

“The safety? Yes. It absolutely was. And I highly suggest we stay very very still for as long as it takes for her to drop it. This close, even if she’s half asleep, she’s not likely to miss.” 

“Miss? Miss! That’s what we should do, we should find-- oh shit.” M’s excitement at thinking of someone more qualified to handle this epic bullshit overrode her caution, and the movement of the barrel of the gun swinging over to her direction was enough to slam her mouth shut.

Next to her, West lowers her voice to be barely audible. "How do we contact him? He might already be in bed as well. What do we need to do in order to --” 

There’s a sound down a hallway past Mitch, and M can hear the sound of bare feet slapping on the floor. The sound softens as the unseen person reaches the corner, and comes to a stop. Behind Mitch, M sees Miss’ head edge around the corner, and a quiet but heartfelt swear. 

Miss tears his eyes away from Mitch to take in the other two women. He raises his voice only enough to make it carry, but keeps his tone soft and soothing. “M, West… whatever you do, don’t move. She can’t see you if you don’t move. And don’t say a thing. I’ll,” Miss takes a deep breath and pauses only a second before releasing it again. “I’ll handle this.”

Miss steps out into the hallway, hands held slightly ahead of him, palms out and M gives a start to see him only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. “Mitch.” There’s no response - Mitch continues to train her gun on her friends, but there’s a change. The checked-out look in her eyes returns, and the gun is slowly, ever so slowly, dropping. It’s a tough choice - in any other scenario, if they were alone, he would just wait quietly until she faded, until she fell back asleep and was safe to handle and move back to bed. But even if she is shutting down, all it would take was one person to walk in, take them all by surprise, and who knows how Mitch might react. So instead he takes another small step towards her and starts to hum. He starts quiet, and then slowly gets louder. Miss doesn’t do an awful lot of singing, but it’s a melody that Mitch should remember. A song that their old squad used to sing together - on their way back from battles, during holidays, even just to pass the time, when life was at a lull. It was a comforting sound, the sound of old friends and the memories of their laughter. From here he can see her lift her head, as though she can hear it. So quietly he calls to her again. “Mitch.”

Smoothly, as though supported on well oiled ball bearings, Mitch pivots, swinging the gun away from her younger teammates and pointing it straight at Miss. Her face is calm, set like a marble statue, but he can see the trail of a single tear already drying on her cheek. “Mitch, it’s okay. It’s just me. It’s just Miss. Can you see me Mitch? I’m right here. No, West, don’t interfere.” Miss doesn’t move anything but his eyes, nearly skewering his teammate with a glare as she gives Mitch’s back a weighing look, but his voice remains even and mild. “Just stay still. Stay silent.”

Another tear brims in Mitch’s eye, spills over her lashes and Miss’ heart breaks. “Oh, Mitch. It’s okay, let’s go home. Put down the gun. Aren’t you tired? You can sleep. Put down the gun, Mitch.” 

He takes a small step forward, but before his foot can even touch the ground, she strides forward to meet him and touches the muzzle of the gun against his chest. Her face is a rictus, lips curled as more tears fall, and even if he couldn’t see her hand shaking, he can feel the metal shivering against his bare skin. 

He wishes West and M weren’t here to witness this, but with no progress, it was time to end it. 

“Mac.”

There’s a flicker in her eyes - a brief, long dormant spark. 

“Mac… it hurts.”

The change is immediate. Mitch doesn’t simply drop the gun, she tosses it behind her, like a piece of garbage that is in her way. Her mouth moves silently a moment, her hands palpating down the front of his body as though looking for a wound. Her hand squishes into his face as she checks him for a temperature about five inches too low. Behind her, West dives to the side, eyes wide as she tracks the gun through the air and snags it, cushioning it as she falls, so it doesn’t go off by accident. Mitch continues her blind examination, until Miss hums again, slowly reaching up to take her hand. “Mac, it’s okay. It’s okay, you fixed me. Look. I’m all better now. C’mere so I can hug you, okay? You did a good job, but you look tired. C’mere.” 

Mitch keeps moving a few seconds more, silently fussing over him one-handedly until Miss carefully pulls her closer. She stutters to a stop, her body and mind going completely still as he guides her hand to his waist, then whispering softly as he wraps his arms around her. She stands there, statue-like for a moment as Miss hugs her, then with molasses slowness, wraps her own arms around him in return. 

“That’s right. That’s it.” The way his body relaxes as he tucks his cheek to hers spells out his relief even more than the look on his face, if West and M would have been able to see him properly from where they stood. “Shhh. Just relax, Mac. Okay? You put in a lot of work today. Saved a lot of people that wouldn’t have made it without you. I know how that always tires you out. So just close your eyes, okay? Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Shh.” He brings one hand up to cup behind her head, brushing first his thumb, then his entire hand over her hair. 

It doesn’t take long. One moment, both are standing, embracing, then the next Miss is the only thing holding her up. Her arms lose their strength, and before her knees can give way completely, Miss scoops her up. He turns to West and M, gives them a glare and mouths “stay right there.” Then still murmuring softly to MItch, carries her out of sight around the corner. 

A minute passes and M turns to West. “Did he say ‘stay right here’? Or something else?”

“I think he said ‘stay right here.’ What else could he possibly have said?”

“He might have said -- I dunno. I was just hoping that maybe I misunderstood and we could avoid whatever he’s going to come back and say.” 

“Hmm. I don’t think he’ll believe us if we said we misunderstood. Just wait it out.” 

M sighs, leans against the wall. “You know something else?”

“What?”

“Her quarters are in the opposite direction.”

“....what?”

“The direction he carried her? It’s the wrong way. Her quarters are in the opposite direction.”

“You think he’s taking her to his quarters? I mean, I guess it would make sense. He’s not going to leave her by herself, is he?”

“But she’s...you know.”

West’s cheeks turn pink. “What, naked? I’m sure Miss can deal with that. I mean, we have co-ed locker rooms. And they’ve known each other twenty years. I’ve heard Mitch say that she’s seen him naked before when she’s trying to nag him into doing something.”

“Yeah, okay to all that but still...I don’t think she came from her quarters.”

That brought West’s eyebrows right up. “Wait, what are you saying?”

M folds her arms, and raises her eyes to the ceiling, words slowing as though she’s still working through an uncomfortable idea. “You’ve stopped by Mitch’s quarters late, right? You’ve seen her there? Ever woken her up? What was she wearing?” 

“What, you mean all her crazy Christmas pajamas she wears year round? That woman is not all right.” 

M nods, still looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah. Mitch doesn’t sleep naked.”

There’s a long pause, while West runs smack into M’s unspoken idea and mentally rebounds from the shock of it. “Are you trying to say that you think that they-”

“West. M.” Miss walks around the corner, still tying the belt of a grey bathrobe. “I need to talk to you.”

Both women give a start, unable to hide the guilt in their eyes, but Miss, to their relief, assumes that they were still upset about what had just transpired. He folds his arms in a too familiar stance, and gives them a serious, but not unkind look. 

“First of all, I need to apologize. You probably pieced it together by now, but this thing with Mitch? This isn’t something new.”

M and West share a wide eyed poleaxed look, neither quite believing that they are having this conversation. West swallows hard. “Don’t worry. You know we won’t tell anyone.”

Miss’ shoulders sag in visible relief. “Thank you. I knew you’d understand. Having it on the record that Mitch has problems with sleepwalking would be pretty devastating. Years back, it could have gotten her discharged, especially when it became clear that she could be dangerous.” 

M swears that she can feel sweat running down the back of her neck. “Yeah, sleepwalking. That’s what I thought you--” 

West cuts her off, desperate to stay on the relatively safer topic of sleepwalking. “She’s been doing this for that long?”

“As long as I’ve known her, even though I didn’t realize it until later. I wouldn’t have told you any of this, but given the circumstances, I don’t have a choice. I still haven’t decided whether to tell her what happened tonight. She would be horrified to know that she put you in danger. And I know from experience that she traditionally doesn’t deal well with that kind of guilt.” 

“Being naked however won’t bother her at--” 

West straight up covers M’s mouth, eyes glued to Miss as though she could will him not to notice. “Is she going to be okay?” 

“She will. I’ll keep an eye on her the rest of the night. Thank you for keeping this quiet. Unless she brings it up with you directly, please don’t mention it to her, or treat her differently.” Miss lets out a sigh, and for a moment, he looks older than either woman has ever seen him. “It’d be a great time to retire,” he mutters, but M is pretty sure that those words were not for their ears. 

M pushes West’s hand away and gives Miss a direct look. “Will you be okay?”

Miss gives her a look as though he’s never seen anything like her before. Then his head drops a bit and he is clearly thinking. “Yes. I’ll be fine. Right now she needs me, and that's more important. But later, if I’m not - she’ll take care of me.” He lifts his head and meets M’s eyes again. “Like she always does. Like she does for her entire team. I don’t take that for granted, but… I trust that she will. Completely.” Then something breaks in his gaze and they can practically see his defenses go back up. The time for revelations and confidences is over. “I need to get back to her. She shouldn’t be left alone.”

West takes M’s arm. “We won’t say anything. Get some rest, Miss.” 

He doesn’t point out that he won’t be sleeping. It’s a given. He will spend the rest of the night lying behind her, holding Mitch close the way they do every night, but to keep a vigil. To make sure she doesn’t surprise him. To guard against the nightmare scenario where she wakes to find she’s hurt him. He will not let that happen, not for his sake, but hers. 

So instead he nods, and turns away, walks nearly back to the corner before turning back around. “And West? Maybe leave that goddamn peashooter back at the armoury where it belongs?” Without another word, he turns back around and disappears.

M watches Elliot turn the corner, then turns back to West. “So.” 

West doesn’t have the heart to discuss it further. There is just too much to take in, and there isn’t even room left in her head to handle a conversation to hash it out. “Tomorrow. We can talk about it tomorrow. Let’s get some rest.” 

M opens her mouth to say something more, but shuts it again, silently. Without argument she follows her friend in the direction of their own quarters. 

\---------------------------------------

Miss lets himself back into his room, eases himself into bed next to Mitch. “Hey Kel. It’s just me. Don’t worry - it’s just me.” He lays down, inching closer until his body is curled behind hers, shaping himself around her, supporting her even as she sleeps. He hears her breathing change, feels the tension as she twitches in her sleep. He brushes her hair back away from her face with the flat of his hand, kisses her shoulder. There is no chance of him sleeping, but he closes his eyes anyway, communing with her, enjoying the feel of her body warm against his. 

“Elliot?”

Miss opens his eyes in surprise. “Hey, sorry. Didn’t think I’d wake you.”

Mitch's voice is soft, her words slurred. “I caught a fish, Elliot...”

Not awake, then. But happy at least. Elliot closes his eyes, touches his forehead to her shoulder before answering.

“That's a nice one, Kel. See if you can catch another.” 

Mitch makes a happy noise, and her mind drifts past fishing and back into deeper sleep. 

“I’ll give you that cabin soon, Kel.” Miss finds her hand, weaves their fingers together. “Cabin, and a fishing rod, and a big bed where we can lay and listen to your birds, okay? I promise.” A tear drops to the mattress, and he makes no attempt to brush away the next. “Soon.”

  
  



End file.
